


Winter

by BlackCatIIIX



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Angst, Established Relationship, First Fight, Hot Chocolate, M/M, Marshmallows, Some Fluff, The Barns, pynch - Freeform, snowstorm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-23
Updated: 2016-04-23
Packaged: 2018-06-03 23:59:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6632299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlackCatIIIX/pseuds/BlackCatIIIX
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Adam and Ronan have a massive fight and Adam's pretty sure this is the end of the line. But can he really leave things as they are? With so much unsaid?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Winter

Their first fight was about everything and absolutely nothing at the same time. It was about excessive presents and mobile phones, it was about Gansey and Monmouth, it was about speed limits and lack of sleep, it was about small touches and monolithic insecurities. It was about all the pride and anger that they used as shields—as if they could somehow protect themselves from all the horrors in the world. It started with sharp words and ended with snarled barbs, the finality of a slammed door and crippling silence. 

Adam found the silence hardest to deal with as he looked around his apartment and with a bitter glare at his abandoned homework, began to get ready for bed, exhausted and defeated. Unfortunately—despite the minimal sleep he'd had the night before and the physically, mentally and emotionally gruelling day he'd just waded through—when he finally crawled into bed in a pair of threadbare sweats and his coca-cola t-shirt, he found himself unable to sleep. 

Instead, he tossed and turned, replaying the argument over and over, constantly rephrasing and expanding on his frustrations and progressively becoming more riled. His anger, however, suddenly took a turn to the self-deprecating, as he remembered how fast Ronan’s face went from angry but open, to snarling and shuttered after Adam had hurled a particularly cruel jibe at Ronan in his anger. 

Adam played the conversation over yet again, this time, focusing on all the bitter taunts he’d thrown at Ronan, just to see him as wounded as Adam was. Then, he thought of all the things he actually wanted to say to Ronan when he wasn't mad but didn’t, instead hiding behind sarcastic remarks and half-hearted actions. He felt himself deflate, anger draining out of him, leaving only regret and guilt. Adam suddenly felt like crying, like curling up on himself and sobbing until he fell asleep as he had many times when he was a child. 

The more he thought of his ugly words and Ronan’s white knuckles as he slammed the door shut behind him, the more Adam understood that this was most likely the bitter, broken end for them. Like his father, he’d let his anger take him away and broken something irreparably. Adam felt his chest tighten in fear and grief, overwhelmed by the loss he felt. 

As he was lying there in his darkened room, near paralysed in fear at the thought of losing Ronan, it finally dawned on him that his feelings had surpassed that of friends, or crushes, best friends or those tentative early days of unofficially dating, and what was worse he realised—with a feeling akin to being punched in the gut—at one point, before tonight, before he’d fucked it all up, Ronan had felt the same, had pretty much said it, not in words as such, but in his own, sharp-edged, physical, Ronan, way. The message was clear—even if Adam had been a bit slow to realise—it was in the mixtape, and the rent, the midnight pizza deliveries and all the passion and snark and temper and tenderness Ronan poured towards him on a daily basis. 

Adam would have laughed if he’d been able to properly breathe air into his constricting lungs. Of course, he would realise all of this when it was far too late to do anything about it, when the last chance he’d ever have, had ended with the slam of a door, hours before. 

At least, he mused, it would save him a little bit of heartbreak in the next few days... and embarrassment… and pity. Adam wouldn’t be the boy who’d fallen in love and fucked it up and broken two hearts. He’d be the monster who should have loved more and had broken the heart of a dreamer. He was Adam Parrish and he was unknowable, no one would know.

Even as these thoughts had passed through his mind Adam, with another burst of self-loathing, realised how disgustingly cowardly he was, fully aware that Ronan didn’t deserve this desperate form of self-preservation. Ronan didn’t deserve to go without knowing how loved he was simply because Adam was too scared of even more damaged than he already was. In the back of his mind Adam was dully surprised to realise that he even could be broken further, he thought he’d lost the remainder of his whole and unharmed pieces the night his father struck him for the last time. Thought he'd lost them on the dusty ground along with his hearing. 

Adam pushed himself out of bed, grabbed his keys and coat and rushed out the door. If this was all going to shit, he had to tell Ronan how he felt. It couldn’t wait, because by morning Ronan probably wouldn’t even be speaking to him. Even if he was, Adam probably would have lost his nerve and would have yet another item in the long list of reasons why Adam was an awful human being. 

The other reason for Adam's rush midnight exodus from his apartment was the vague but growing hope. Adam, although he was trying his best to ignore it, was now wondering if it wasn't too late after all. Hoping that now he knew for sure what he wanted, or more precisely who he wanted, he could actually fix this. It was dangerous and stupid, but Adam just couldn't seem to quash it entirely. 

The resolution to tell Ronan the truth was the first hurdle of the evening. The second, Adam realised as he pulled out of St Agnes with as much speed the Hondayota could handle, was actually locating Ronan, who would drive anywhere and everywhere in a good mood, let alone a bad one. 

Adam drove past Monmouth because it was closest but was entirely unsurprised at the absence of Ronan’s BMW. Then he embarked on the far longer trek out to the barns, which, if he was honest, was still a long shot but really, the only other place Adam could think of Ronan finding some solace. If he wasn’t there, Adam really didn’t know where to try next, a year ago he would have gone looking down the streets that were favoured by Kavinsky's crew, but since the 4th of July incident, Ronan hadn't gone out to actively seek a street race even once. True, he never backed down from incidental challenges, even if Adam was in the car, but now he’d spend his nights at Adam’s instead of seeking the adrenalin hit. 

Adam’s driving up to the barns had a Ronan-esque style to it. Although limited by the speed and general performance of his shit-box of a car, Adam was over the speed limit for almost the entire trip, the danger of taking sharp corners way too fast—heightened even further by the snow that was falling in flurries over the road—was the only way he could expel some of his pent up anxiety. He did slow down as he approached the Barns, a half-formed thought of not startling Ronan. 

As his headlights swept the driveway Adam was relieved—although slightly surprised—to see Ronan’s car present and intact, a fear Adam only realised he’d been carrying after being able to let it go. Not bothering with the unlit house, Adam waded through the snow towards the barn and the odd office space he knew Ronan spent a fair majority of his free time as he desperately tried to waken the barely living.

Adam blazed into the barn, a magician on a mission but lost a lot of his bravado when he was confronted by an empty desk chair. The gnawing worry in the back of his mind, that had eased when he saw the unscratched BMW, came flooding back two fold. Perhaps Ronan had gone and done something stupidly reckless after all, like going for an angry walk in a burgeoning blizzard. 

“Ronan!” Adam called, as he hurriedly searched through the sleeping cows. Looking out one of the small windows he still couldn’t see any lights from the main house, and saw that his own tracks had already been almost obliterated by the falling snow. That didn't stop him from rushing to the door of the barn in hopes of finding some sign of where Ronan may have gone. “RONAN!” He yelled again as he barreled through the door. Only to run straight into his boyfriend. Who swore colourfully as he attempted to balance himself, Adam and what appeared to be a large mug of hot chocolate. 

“What the ever loving fuck Parrish! Wait. Adam?” Ronan asked, bewildered by Adam’s presence, after finally recovering his balance and from the shock of having someone charge out of a barn that, when he’d left it, had been entirely sans humans. 

“Ronan! You’re here! I was looking for you. Where were you?” Adam asked, questions and explanation becoming jumbled in his haste, feeling slightly silly for his former panic as he studied the warm drink in Ronan’s hands.

“Inside. Making hot chocolate. What the fuck are you actually doing here?” Ronan, now more fully recovered from the shock of his suddenly-appearing-boyfriend, had become more abrupt, falling back into the anger and hurt from earlier that evening. Adam saw this, saw Ronan’s features harden and sharpen, everything else shutting down in a self-protective anger. Knowing he’d triggered this defence mechanism made Adam's stomach twist miserably.

“I had to tell you something,” Adam said, not quite able to look at Ronan in a combination of terror and grief. 

“It couldn’t have waited til morning?” Ronan spat out. But there was a tinge to it, not quite angry enough to mask the tightening of Ronan’s voice. Adam’s mind still reeled at the thought that he was wantable enough that it would hurt Ronan to lose him, it was something he didn’t understand and wasn’t sure he would, no matter how many times he was confronted with the realisation. He wondered again if what they had wasn’t so broken, after all, damaged yes, but perhaps repairable if they both were willing. 

“No it couldn’t wait, I had to tell you, and I know it’s too late, and I know I said things, and I always do, and I’m never going to be able to be what you wan- no let me finish,” Adam said, cutting of his rushed words when he saw Ronan opening his mouth. What Ronan had been intending to say Adam didn’t know, Ronan’s face was a mask of stony anger, completely unreadable, but Adam knew this may be his only chance to get this out, to give Ronan what he deserved. 

Adam took a gulp of air, clenched his fists, and forced himself to look Ronan dead in the eye. Ronan deserved this, deserved more than this, deserved more than Adam could ever hope to give him, but at least he could do this properly, not shying away as if expecting a blow, even though he was pretty sure this would hurt. 

“I love you,” said Adam, allowing his accent to bleed through, giving Ronan all the honesty he could as looked straight into Ronan’s slowly widening eyes. Adam felt himself blush, felt like the words didn’t mean enough. He suddenly understood why Ronan chose to express it through actions but sometimes it had to be said and so he had. Softly, but proud and unapologetic, Adam placed himself, entirely laid bare, into Ronan’s hands—hands that could cause such damage, but cradled mice and baby birds with incomparable care—to do with as he saw fit. 

“What?” Ronan’s mask had dropped in shock, and he looked vulnerable and slightly afraid as if expecting Adam to start laughing, one final cruel blow after a long and painful evening.

Adam swallowed thickly. “I’m in love with you Ronan. I’m sorry I didn’t realise it sooner, didn’t tell you sooner, waited til everything was falling apart and I’m sorry I’m so selfish, because you deserve more, but I love you.” Now Adam did look down, not able to look at Ronan as he processed this, not wanting to see anger or hatred return to his eyes as he told Adam it really was too late after all, that Adam indeed did not deserve him, and he now realised this and was moving on. 

So he was taken back when Ronan ducked into his field of view and crashed their faces together. Wasn’t expecting one hand to come up and gently cradle the back of his head while the other pulled him flush with Ronan’s body and held him there tightly. Wasn’t expecting—despite the slightly too rushed and painful start—the gentlest, softest kiss they’d ever shared, the only exception perhaps being the first time Ronan had kissed Adam, which had been so hesitant and unsure it was barely more than a brushing of lips before he’d pulled away and almost fallen over as he began apologizing. 

Adam, as he got over his initial shock, wrapped his arms around Ronan as he tenderly returned the kiss, one around the waist, the other coming up so his hand was on the back of Ronan’s neck, tangling in his scarf. Adam felt a surge of emotion, mainly relief, and channelled it into pulling Ronan impossibly closer. Adam was perfectly content to stay in that moment under the falling snow forever, never wanting to let Ronan go or for this happiness to end.

Unfortunately, Adam’s body had other ideas, and Ronan pulled back—moving his arms so the encircled Adam’s waist—when Adam gave a full body shiver. Stretching his arms as far as they’d go without losing hold of Adam, Ronan’s gaze swept his boyfriend from head to toe, and finally noticed Adam’s ridiculously ill-prepared getup. “Where the fuck are your shoes?” 

Adam was now aware of how painfully cold his feet and lower legs were and looked down to observe his socked feet where the stood in a good few inches of snow. His teeth now violently chattering he replied, “guess I forgot them?”

“Parrish… Did you leave St Agnes, in the middle of a snowstorm and only think to grab a jacket?” Ronan spared a moment to give said jacket a disdainful glance, in all honesty, it wasn’t much better than a windbreaker and Adam hadn’t even bothered to zip it up. 

“I, uh, was in a rush?” Adam was wracked by another powerful shiver and was seriously regretting his hasty exit from his apartment. Suddenly the world tilted, and he let out an indignant squawk as Ronan suddenly hoisted him over his shoulder. “Ronan! I’m cold not a cripple!” he exclaimed, kicking his feet and trying to squirm free, he thought for a small moment that Ronan was actually acquiescing, however, it turned out he was picking up the mug that Adam hadn’t noticed he’d dropped, the previously hot drink now stained the snow brown. 

“Shut up or I’ll carry you fucking princess style,” Ronan muttered as he made his way towards the main house. 

They went through the kitchen door, Ronan flicking on lights as he went, before unceremoniously dumping Adam on the cushion covered couch in front of the fireplace in the living room. He made quick work of starting a fire, then stomped off up the stairs. Stomping back down a few minutes later, he tossed Adam a soft long-sleeved grey sweatshirt, and a pair of faded black sweatpant. “I couldn’t find socks. Put those on before you catch your death.” 

Adam felt his mouth quirk at the juxtaposition of such a motherly phrase coming out of Ronan’s mouth but didn’t say anything as Ronan, disappeared upstairs again. Before he came back Adam had managed to change, hang his damp clothes near the fire to dry and create a nest of cushions in front of the couch so he could huddle closer to the fire. Ronan was a good few inches taller than Adam, which Adam was thankful for as he was able to wrap his frozen and now unsocked feet, up in the ends of the sweatpants. He was fiddling with the overly long sleeves of the sweater, when Ronan came back and dumped a ridiculous number of throw rugs on top of him before wandering into the kitchen.

By the time Adam had managed to dig his way out of, and then organise the pile of throws, Ronan had returned with two mugs of hot chocolate, a bag of marshmallows and two sticks. Ronan passed Adam both mugs, took off his shoes, and burrowed himself into the blankets in such a way that he was nestled perfectly next to Adam. Adam leant his head on Ronan’s shoulder, needing the physical contact, still reeling from the sudden turn of events. 

Ronan didn’t say anything as he took his mug off Adam, nor as he offered Adam a marshmallow topped stick. It was only as they watched their marshmallows crisp in the fire that Ronan said, “you’re such an idiot.”

Adam bristled slightly, then sighed, “I promise next time I go on a crazed adventure in a snowstorm I’ll wear shoes.”

“That’s not- I mean that too but- fuuuuuck,” Ronan sighed. Then asked, “you really thought I’d leave you?”

Everything about the question caught Adam off guard, from the fragile, almost gentle way Ronan had asked, to the hurt that Ronan had tried to hide the hurt in his voice. “I- I didn’t know what to think,” Adam admitted. “When we were just friends, us arguing, it was frustrating, but in the scheme of things… Well, it’s what friends do. They fight, then they get over it. But now we’re dating and everything’s… different. I thought maybe it was more damaging than when we were friends.” Adam wasn’t sure his explanation made any sense, but it was the best he could do.

Up til this point, Ronan had been roasting marshmallows in the fire, but now he pulled his latest one out, only half done and turned to Adam. He stared for a long while before he actually said anything. Adam shifted uncomfortably. "Had you thought about leaving me?"

It took Adam a second to reply because out of all the things he was expecting Ronan to say, this was not one. The concept of leaving Ronan was so foreign to Adam that it actually took a moment to process. "No! Wait, did you think I would?"

Ronan twirled the stick in his hands, the half caramelised marshmallow still on top. "Sorta. I was worried and then you burst out of the barn demanding we talk and then I was pretty much petrified," he admitted.

"Ronan, I couldn't- wouldn't. No," Adam didn't know how to phrase what he was trying to say but Ronan nodded.

"Then you know how I feel."

"But," Adam objected, although it pained him. "I don't understand how I'm worth it. You deserve more."

"I- no Adam. I don't care what you think I deserve, I want you. I know I'm not good with words but you need to here this." Ronan looked flustered. Which meant it looked like he wanted to hit something. He had returned to watching the spinning stick.

"Ronan, you don't need to say anything I know," Adam tried to assure him.

"No. No, you clearly don't, or we wouldn't be having this fucking conversation." Ronan met Adam's gaze again. "I love you, I have from before we were dating and if we ever break up I'll probably love you long after that. So let me make the decision of what's best for me and you just worry about doing the same for you."

Under Ronan's intense gaze Adam was merely able to nod, unable to find words worthy of such a speech. Ronan made a sound of approval and leaned towards Adam. 

Before their lips touched, however, he added, "and if you ever make me say such a fucking cliched shitty romantic thing like that ever again, I'm going to leave Chainsaw unsupervised in your room for an afternoon." Adam let out a surprised chortle, that was quickly cut off by Ronan's lips. 

Adam and Ronan were quite content to stay nestled by the fire that night, satisfying themselves with gentle touches and whispered nothings, protected from the world by the still falling snow, uninterrupted till morning, when they were woken at an inconsiderate hour by a frantic phone call from Gansey, panicked by their sudden disappearance into the biggest snowstorm of the year.

**Author's Note:**

> Had to squeeze this in before all my happiness and dreams are destroyed by the Raven King.... send help


End file.
